


I Don't Want To Fall Away

by VeteranKlaus



Series: Specialise in Dying [1]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Hurt No Comfort, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:41:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22093507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeteranKlaus/pseuds/VeteranKlaus
Summary: 'He can’t count them. There are too many to count. Way too many. Row after row after unending row, the ghosts flood the streets, stand on rubble, on crumbling second, third and fourth floors of still-standing buildings, and they’re probably lined up in the nearest alleyways, too. Shoulder to shoulder, packed in to try and fit everyone in as best they can; there must be thousands.'Attempting to save them, Five tries to travel back in time with all his siblings. Instead, they go forwards into the apocalypse.Klaus sees all of the ghosts.
Series: Specialise in Dying [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1591276
Comments: 98
Kudos: 1030





	1. Chapter 1

It went wrong.

Five only manages to grab a few prolonged moments of consciousness after forcing all seven of them through time, his body utterly spent and worn thin, but it’s long enough to realise that it went wrong. Because around him there are no walls of the Academy, or of Vanya’s apartment, or even of the Icarus Theatre. They are outside, sitting on a pile of rubble while ash flutters from the sky like snow and smoke stings his eyes. All the buildings around them are nothing but a mess of rubble and debris, some still up in flames.

He had just focused on getting them somewhere where they’d be safe; and although he assumes that everyone else is at the very least alive around him, he hadn’t counted on this being a possibility. Instead of travelling back in time, he had thrown them forwards in time. Maybe only a few hours, too; just enough time for the destruction Vanya had caused to settle.

He had thrown them all right into the apocalypse he had spent decades stuck in.

He passes out too quickly to do anything about it.

###

Klaus isn’t the first one to wake up. He hears murmuring first, rocks sliding over one another, and he pries his eyes open to the sight of his siblings all huddled in a circle. Five’s head is on Luther’s lap, his face pale and eyes sunken slightly but his chest still rising and falling steadily. Vanya is in a similar state, her head cradled in Allison’s lap. Diego is standing up, looking around with his hands on his hips, and Ben is standing behind him. When he notices Klaus sitting up, he stands right in front of him, completely blocking his view.

“Klaus,” he says, voice uncharacteristically urgent, “don’t look around.”

Klaus’ eyebrows furrow and he has to force himself not to immediately do just that. “What?” His voice is hoarse and he clears his throat to try and ease it.

“Five time travelled with everyone, remember? Well, it must have gone wrong, because we’re-“

“Klaus, you’re awake.”

Klaus’ eyes flick to Diego and then he sees it.

“Five’s out of it after jumping us through time, but we think he must have sent us forwards instead of back – into the apocalypse. We’ll have to wait until he wakes up and maybe he can send us back, but until then, we’re kind of stuck. Vanya’s out, too. We’re probably going to get up and try and find some shelter soon. Is Ben here?”

Klaus hears him, of course, but he’s more concerned with something else.

They are surrounded. As far as his eyes can see, they are completely surrounded in a perfect circle of ghosts that give them perhaps ten feet of space at most. It is best described as a crowd at a concert and Klaus and his siblings are the main entertainment.

He can’t count them. There are too many to count. Way too many. Row after row after unending row, the ghosts flood the streets, stand on rubble, on crumbling second, third and fourth floors of still-standing buildings, and they’re probably lined up in the nearest alleyways, too. Shoulder to shoulder, packed in to try and fit everyone in as best they can; there must be _thousands_.

And they are all staring right at him.

They’re not the pretty ones, either; the majority of them are burnt; horrifically charred, flesh melting off their skeleton, hair hanging loose, blackened. Some others are horrifically disfigured as if they were trapped under a building and the entire thing collapsed directly on top of them.

They are horrifically silent.

Klaus’ jaw drops in astonishment and horror. His breath hitches in his throat and the full body ache that greets him after time travel is quickly forgotten.

Diego steps in front of him with a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I know, it’s crazy,” he says. It takes Klaus a moment to realise that Diego isn’t seeing what he is; Diego thinks he is shocked because of all the rubble, the utter destruction of the entire city. And he _is_ ; but the ghosts are worse.

“Don’t look at them, Klaus,” says Ben, crouching by his side and blocking them from his peripheral vision. “Don’t look at them. They’re not doing anything; I think they might be in some state of shock. Just… don’t acknowledge them and they might stay that way. Focus on Diego.”

Klaus closes his mouth and looks at the rubble beneath his hands, forcing a small nod. He swallows heavily, dread settling like anchors in his guts, and then he looks at Diego.

“Yeah,” he rasps. “Ben’s here. He’s… he’s fine. Let’s find shelter.”

###

He thought the shelter might help. It doesn’t.

They find the ruins of the Academy and Klaus and Allison focus on trying to move some rubble around to try and make a semi-smooth surface to rest Five and Vanya on.

The ghosts followed them – not that they had much room to move. They never ended – it was more of all seven of them wading through the crowd of ghosts, that parted to let them through, rather than moving with a following crowd.

Klaus is tempted to call them a sea of ghosts instead. He tries his best not to look at them but he can’t help but steal glances at them from his peripheral vision, glances over his shoulder. They all stare him in the eye – those that have eyes – and still, they don’t make a noise.

Klaus _hates_ it. But for his siblings, he pretends nothing is wrong. He keeps his eyes down, keeps his hands busy, and bites his lip in anxiety and gut-wrenching dread.

Five wakes up not too long after they settle into the ruins of the Academy, at least. He wakes up groggily, evidently exhausted and worn thin but awake nonetheless.

He sits up, looks around them, at Vanya, and then says _“shit.”_

“You could say that again,” says Diego. “What happened, Five?”

His brother sighs, slumping, and he runs a hand through his hair. “It was hard to do with six,” he glances at Klaus, “seven people. I was focused on putting us out of immediate danger; I didn’t expect this to be one of the outcomes. How is she?”

“Still unconscious; hasn’t moved since we got here. Hopefully that won’t stay that way for too long.”

Five’s head bobs in a nod. “I’ll work on getting us out of here but… I won’t lie, it could take time. I need to rest before I can even attempt time travel on my own, let alone with more people.”

“It took you a while the first time,” Luther says. Five’s face goes dark and he looks down at the floor.

“I know.”

A moment of silence stretches.

“Then we better get comfortable. We’ll look around for supplies; the place looks like it should hold up, at least for a while-“

“It will. There’s canned food still in the kitchen, closest water is in the corner shop at the end of the street. Dad – one of dad’s guns is still in his office, someone needs to bring it down… I’m not sure how the Commission will be at the moment.”

“I’ll go get the food,” says Allison.

“I’ll get-“

“I’ll get the gun!” Klaus exclaims, hurrying onto his feet and heading straight for the crumbling staircase. He isn’t willing to go outside and walk down that street himself, surrounded by the ghosts.

“Watch the ninth stair,” calls Five and, sure enough, when Klaus steps on it it crumbles. He narrowly avoids falling through it, fingers scrabbling against the wall. When he’s steady and the floor doesn’t continue to give beneath him, he continues on his way, Ben by his side, to find Reginald’s gun.

###

Allison lights a fire as it begins to grow darker. Five is insistent on rationing their food until they start searching further out and find more. He keeps Reginald’s gun beside him, eyes occasionally flicking around, holding his breath to listen for anything out of place. He’s already begun to use a piece of slate to write on the walls, equations scrawled out around them, but it was slow going and he was evidently already nearly falling asleep once more.

Vanya wakes up as they’re heating some of the food up. She groans, her face pinches, and then she slowly opens her eyes and sits up. It takes Allison to calm her down enough for Klaus to explain what’s going on – Five sending them into the future, the apocalypse, their current situation, Ben being there; everything minus the horde of ghosts.

Klaus doesn’t eat.

“I still feel all weird from the time travel,” he dismisses, waving a hand, “I won’t keep it down; wake Five up and let him have it.”

It’s not necessarily a lie; his head still pounds and his limbs feel all odd and disproportionate in that after-time travel way, but it’s the sight of all the ghosts and their gore around them, and their presence anxiety-inducing as it is, that makes his appetite just crumble.

“This is a mess,” utters Diego, eating beans from a can.

“We’ll rest tonight and tomorrow we’ll search around for more supplies,” Luther declares. “We could use this opportunity, assuming the Commission isn’t after us, to talk about Vanya’s powers and help her get used to them.”

“What does Ben think about all of this?” Diego asks.

Klaus glances to Ben and tries to ignore the ghost standing in the empty window behind him, staring, unblinking. “I think we need to get out of here as quickly as we can.”

“He thinks we need to leave,” he says.

“I can agree with that.”

“Should we do a night watch while we sleep?”

“It’s a good idea in case the Commission comes back.”

“I’ll take first watch,” offers Klaus. Diego raises an eyebrow.

“You sure, bro?”

Klaus nods, looking away. And so they set up for the night, keeping somewhat close to one another. Luther throws a couple of things onto the fire before they all lay down and Klaus sits, legs crossed, chin on his hands, watching the flames.

He doesn’t hear much except for his sibling’s breathing and the occasional snore. Five mutters in his sleep every now and then, words Klaus tries not to listen to. Ben sits around the fire, opposite him, also on alert for the sounds of footsteps on rubble, or of a cocking gun.

The ghosts stay. Klaus bites at his thumbnail with nerves and tries not to look at the ghosts – they look even worse in the firelight, exactly how they looked moments before death, he doesn’t doubt.

He doesn’t hear anything. Not for hours. It’s only when he’s beginning to think about waking Luther or Diego up to swap shifts and think about actually catching some sleep when he begins to hear it.

The moans. Pained, sad, agonising moans like whispers on the wind, muttered here and there between ghosts. It is quickly followed by crying; quiet, sniffling, like a scared child’s; and then, finally, the talking.

“It _hurts_ so much.”

“Please, make it stop…”

“Someone, please, help me, help, I can’t _move_ -“

“Mom? Mom? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, God, _please_ -“

“Help me, please-“

“Why won’t you _help me_?”

“Help me, help me, help me-“

“ _Klaus_ -“

Klaus’ eyes slip closed and he slumps in defeat. They’re not yelling and not all of them are talking, not yet, but he knows that it can only get worse from here.

Klaus gets up (ignores how the ghosts are getting closer, too, not giving them such a wide berth now) and shakes Diego awake, swapping out with him, and then he curls up on the floor with his hands over his ears.

###

He doesn’t sleep that night. Each passing minute brought another ghosts crying or begging, and more of them began to learn his name and began to sob it. Some of them just relived their dying moments, gasping for breath or moaning in agony.

He doesn’t actually notice when it’s morning. So focused on keeping his eyes screwed shut to avoid looking at them and keeping his hands over his ears, he only realises when someone kneels down in front of him and puts a hand on his shoulder, shaking him.

He startles, eyes snapping open to see Allison. She raises an eyebrow at him, curious and concerned, and Klaus just offers a tense smile and sits upright, looking around.

Everyone is awake.

The ghosts are even closer. Against the walls, in the doorways, on the stairs, the second floor above him, standing by the windows and fanning out like the ocean.

Diego says something that he doesn’t hear. They’re sobbing too loudly.

Diego frowns at him, coming close and waving his hand in front of his face. Klaus jumps and offers an apologetic smile, clears his throat, then strains his ears to listen.

###

They’re getting food.

Five remembers where there should be some but, still feeling depleted (understandably so) he, Vanya and Allison decide to stay at their little camp while he, Diego and Luther head out to find supplies.

Klaus dances around ghosts as they start to reach out to him with charred hands, flesh falling away to reveal bones.

“What’s up with you?” Diego asks when Klaus trips up over debris in an attempt to dodge a hand. Klaus scrambles back onto his feet, hissing as the palms of his hands sting, along with his knees, and he looks up at Diego, frowning right at him.

“Oh, you know,” he says lightly, eyes bouncing around. Why don’t they end? There can’t be that many ghosts; they have to end somewhere. But they go down the streets and they never end, all pressed together, no inch of space between them; the streets utterly packed. “Ghosts.”

Diego raises an eyebrow. “There are some here?”

“There are a few,” Klaus laughs airily. “Let’s just keep going.”

###

Klaus slides down onto the floor of their camp, dropping the cans of food he had been holding into the growing pile, and then he closes his eyes and lowers his head.

Luther is talking about the stuff they found. Five responds, asks about any signs of the Commission, then says stuff about equations and time.

Klaus doesn’t listen. He focuses simply on trying to block the ghosts out.

Then one of them screams. A guttural, blood-gurgling scream that cracks through the air like a gunshot. He flinches, hard. Eyes snap in the direction of the scream but he can’t find what ghost is making such an awful noise, so he quickly just closes his eyes and presses his hands harder against his ears.

###

It’s not long after the first screamer that more begin to join in. Klaus imagines this is what the world sounded like as everyone began to die; gut-wrenching, ear-bleeding screams, intermingling with agonising sobs and pleads. And they just get louder, and louder, and closer, and closer.

He could have dealt with it if they had kept quiet. He could have ignored them and pretended they weren’t there if they just kept quiet. He isn’t so sure of that anymore.

He can’t hear himself think; if he’s muttering, crying, begging them to stop, he can’t hear it – not over them. Every time he opens his eyes they are there, all around him, screaming and begging.

_“Klaus, please!”_

_“Klaus-“_

_“It hurts, God, please-“_

_“Why do you get to live? Why? Why? Klaus!”_

He didn’t kill them. It wasn’t his fault – wasn’t it? If he had been a better brother, he might have been able to avoid this. If he hadn’t thrown out that book in Reginald’s box that he pawned, he might have seen it himself and been able to help her. If he even stayed with Vanya when Luther locked her up, he might have been able to stop this and save everyone. Maybe it is his fault. Maybe he is, technically, the murderer they claim he is.

It’s hard to think otherwise when they won’t stop screaming it.

###

They won’t stop screaming. He might as well not have his hands over his ears; it does absolutely nothing. There’s too many of them. He can’t think straight; he forgets that anything beyond the ghosts exists.

Hands settle onto his and he jumps violently, eyes snapping open and landing not on a bloody, disfigured ghost, but rather Diego. He looks rather concerned, too.

“You alright, bro?” He asks. Klaus realises that it’s getting darker – is it the same day as he set out to find supplies with him and Luther? It feels as if three years have passed.

_“I watched my son burn alive! Why? Why?”_

Klaus supresses a flinch and forces a tight smile. “I’m fine,” he murmurs. Diego raises an eyebrow, sceptical.

“You should eat,” he says. Klaus can’t even see the fire only a few feet away from him, what with the ghosts crowding him. He looks quickly to Diego.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs once more, leaning back against stone wall and feeling little rocks slide loose beneath him.

Diego looks rather awkward as he says; “the ghosts?”

Klaus smiles sadly. “They’re loud.” That’s an understatement. He can’t even hear himself talk. But Diego doesn’t understand that. His siblings don’t understand what he means when he says the ghosts are loud; they must imagine arguing for his attention, maybe, not unholy screaming; their screams of pure hatred and rage and agony that they had felt in their last moments.

They’re everywhere and they’re so loud but (now that he remembers that they are there) he can hold himself together for his siblings. Vanya needs him. Ben needs him.

Then he looks up and there is just so _many_ of them. He almost feels like he’s drowning.

Diego squeezes his shoulder sympathetically, but there’s nothing he can do.

Klaus just hopes that Five figures out his equations quickly.

###

His resolve crumbles quicker than he’d like to admit. He last perhaps only a few more hours – he hardly makes it through that night, at least.

He feels like he’s listening to an orchestra of the souls of the damned all screaming; he feels as if the very pits of Hell have opened up and every tortured soul is screaming right at him. He can’t bring himself to open his eyes lest he sees a child picking their intestines up off the rubble yet again; lest he sees the child cowering in the corner, sobbing in pain and looking for her parents; lest he see Ben’s face morph into that of the other ghost’s.

At least, now, he’s aware that he’s crying. Whether or not it’s quietly or waking his siblings up, that he can’t be sure of. He can’t hear any noise he makes over their screams.

His head thumps down onto the ground.

“Please,” he says, or he thinks he does. When his lips move he can’t quite hear what leaves them. “ _Please_ , just stop, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so _sorry_.”

His head hits the ground.

The feeling, the little jolt of pain, is the only part of him that exists. He can’t hear himself talk; can’t hear himself breathe. He can’t see anything other than blood and gore whenever he opens his eyes. The sound just drowns out every other aspect of reality; the dull ache that happens when he hits his head is the only thing that makes him realise he is still real. He knows he’s still alive because it makes the ghosts furious.

“I didn’t kill you. It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault. I’m sorry. Please leave.”

_“The building collapsed on me and trapped me there. The flames didn’t reach me quickly; I fucking cooked to death under my own house. I could hear my mother screaming.”_

_“I felt my skin melt off! Please, please, make it stop, it hurts-“_

_“My son died and you get to live! Why? Why do you get to live? He was three! Tell me why! Klaus!”_

_“Klaus, help me, help me, please Klaus-“_

_“Damn you, Klaus, damn you, I’ll kill you myself-“_

_“It isn’t fair, Klaus, it isn’t fair! It isn’t fair!”_

_Blood curdling screams like a haunting choir that keeps singing a song of agony._

“Please,” he begs. A sob falls past his lips. His head hits the floor. His head hits a hand; one slipped beneath him, blocking his access to the floor, blocking his access to reality. Fingers run through his hair ever so gently, another hand taps his wet cheek.

“Klaus, open your eyes-“

_“Open your eyes and look at me, Klaus, look at what you did-“_

“Come on, Klaus.”

Klaus peels his heavy eyelids open. Brown eyes swirl above him; Diego. Over his shoulder, a sobbing, melting mother. Diego taps his cheek and brings his attention back to him.

Diego says something. Klaus can’t hear him.

The mother is holding something to her chest. Someone. Her child; young, tiny, burnt. Klaus moans as if personally feeling their agony and he tips his head back, eyes closing once more. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I’m so sorry.”

It doesn’t matter. Nothing he says will make it up to them.

His head hits a hand.

###

He catches his siblings in glimpses.

Five writing on stone.

Allison running her fingers through Vanya’s hair.

Luther with an arm full of supplies.

Diego bent over a fire.

Ben, always by his side.

###

The mother sits right in front of Klaus, nearly blocking his entire view with just herself.

She lays her toddler down even closer to Klaus; mere inches from his face. He would have been a cute kid, Klaus thinks, if not for the missing eyes, teeth visible with no cheek to cover his mouth, singed hair and dripping flesh.

Klaus begs her to move; begs her to forgive him.

His hands go up. Not to his ears, but to his eyes, and through struggling gasps, he tries to rid the image from his mind.

Stones skid and bounce off his skin and hands on his wrists pry his hands away from his face and press them to the ground. They hold them there until the lack of oxygen gets to him and he goes limp on the floor.

###

His siblings are huddled around the fire.

His head hits the ground.

They talk in hushed voices. They could scream and he wouldn’t hear any of them.

His head hits the ground. He didn’t kill them. He didn’t mean to.

Hands lift his head and cradle it on something soft. Fingers stroke his hair. Would they be so gentle if they knew he was a murderer?

Fingers work his jaw apart, like they usually do whenever they are giving him water. So he abides, opens his mouth and stops begging long enough to swallow. Fingers run through his hair continuously. Klaus wishes the ghosts would be as gentle.

###

It’s dark. Firelight dances across the ghosts’ features and he can see how the fire would have burned them.

His ears are ringing. For some reason, there’s an ever so slight lull in the ghosts. Less screaming and more sobbing. Not pleasant, either, but nearly tolerable. It still rattles in his skull but it doesn’t send him blind like the screams do.

He sits up.

His siblings are asleep. He catches sight of Diego in the crumbling doorway of the Academy, looking out onto the streets. Somehow, Klaus is quiet enough that Diego doesn’t turn around.

A ghost falls through Diego, moaning, and Diego shivers.

_“Klaus, please… please, just help me-“_

_“Please, I’m so scared, please!”_

_“Klaus!”_

Five is asleep, curled up on his side.

Something glints in the firelight behind him.

Klaus stands up, his eyes watching it through each gap between the ghosts’ shoulders.

_“You don’t deserve it. You’re a monster, you’re a monster, you did this, Klaus!”_

_“Listen to me! Listen!”_

Klaus creeps around the fireplace. Hands fall through him, hands try to grab him.

Someone starts screaming again.

Klaus grabs the gun behind Five, presses it to the side of his head, and pulls the trigger.

Everything is quiet.

In the following silence, he can hear himself cry in relief.


	2. Sibling's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I went and added a POV from the siblings; enjoy the pain, I guess?

They are all understandably shaken up from landing in the Apocalypse, so no one really notices Klaus reacting differently. Witnessing the sheer destruction of what Five had lived in for decades was shocking, left them all reeling, but they are quick to gather themselves and their unconscious siblings and try and find shelter, ending in the crumbling remains of the Academy. 

Their main focus quickly becomes listening to what Five tells them to do; finding food, finding water, setting up a fire. 

It's uncomfortably hot, the floor burning like summer sand at a beach, and when they do find water Diego has to force himself not to down half of it - Five is insistent on rationing everything they get. 

At the very least, they manage to settle down. They strike up a fire, Five and Vanya wake up, they heat up some canned food on the fire and discuss everything. Five gets started on equations almost immediately. He sits with Reginald's gun beside him at all times as soon as Klaus brings it down and every so often he goes deadly still and silent, as if trying to listen to any distant footsteps, any sounds created by anything other than a rat or a vulture.

The silence is something that shocks Diego. He can stand in the middle of the street and the normal background noise of chatter and cars is just gone. The only noise around is created from crumbling buildings or themselves, and it's almost unsettling. He feels the need to whisper and tip-toe around the place to not disturb the eerie, grave-silence. 

Klaus doesn't seem to act so differently. Jumpy, but they all are, and no doubt listening to whatever Ben has to say about their situation, too. He doesn't eat, but Diego still feels weird from time travel as well, and evidently so is everyone else - clumsy, a vague headache behind their eyes, tired. It isn't a problem for any of them when he volunteers for first watch that night, and despite the fact that he's laying down on uneven rocks, Diego falls asleep quickly. 

The situation is beyond ideal but with everyone there, all willing to work together, Diego thinks that they ought to be able to get through it. They'll go searching for more food and water in the morning, more supplies in general. They would keep an eye out for the Commission and they would be able to fight or negotiate their way out of any situation should they appear. Five needed to focus on recovering his energy and on testing out his equations. They would discuss Vanya's powers, too, tomorrow once they'd settled down a bit more. It wasn't the best situation, but Diego thought that it wasn't that bad either; as long as the Commission stayed out of things, maybe the Apocalypse would give them a chance to safely practice Vanya's powers without endangering anyone and without any interference. 

He's woken that night by a hand on him, shaking him firmly. Klaus is there, offering him a tense smile. He looks tired. 

"Your turn, bro," he says, and it takes Diego a moment to realise that he's referring to night watch. As soon as Diego sits up, Klaus moves to curl up on the floor, facing a wall, and he presses his hands over his ears as if the fire crackling away a few feet to their side is deafening. 

Diego doesn't question it. He probably has a migraine or something. 

So Diego sits up for the rest of the night, keeping an eye open for anything unusual. The night brings nothing and everyone begins to wake up as it begins to get lighter. The fire is still going, thanks to him topping it up throughout the night, and so Luther begins to heat up some of the canned beans they found over it. Diego frowns at the sight, already dreading what his diet is to become while stuck here. 

Allison hums - the most noise she can currently manage to make, though it is successful in grabbing all their attention quickly - and then tips her head towards Klaus. Diego's gaze follows her and he sees Klaus, still curled up in almost the exact same position as he had fallen asleep with, his back to them all, hands pressed harshly against his ears. Allison approaches Klaus, settling a hand on his shoulder and gently shaking him. He startles, snapping his head over to look at them, looking a little shocked.

"You okay?" He asks. Klaus' eyes go right through him and he waves his hand in front of him, one eyebrow raised ever so slightly. Klaus startles, as if already forgetting that he's right there, and then he offers an apologetic smile and sits upright. 

Diego frowns at him, but if he didn't sleep well he can't exactly blame him. There's a crick in Diego's neck and the headache he had is only just now starting to go away.

###

“I’m still recovering,” says Five with a frustrated scowl directed to the can of beans in his hands. “The time travelling took a lot out of me. It’ll be a couple more days, I’m afraid, before I’m able to… interact with time, in a sense.”

“That’s fine,” says Luther. “It’s better that you take your time before trying to do anything. We can keep looking for supplies; keep the fire going, try and find some things to make it more comfortable here.”

Five nods his head. He does look drained still; pale, eyes underlined by dark bags. “There’s stuff in the street,” he says. “It should keep us going for a few days if we ration it, but we’ll still need to venture further out eventually to keep finding more.”

“We can go do that now,” Diego offers, looking around. “Some of you can stay at camp – you and Allison need to rest-“ Allison frowns at him but Diego knows that, although she’s healed largely from her wound, she still shouldn’t be exerting herself too much and Diego doesn’t want to risk her overdoing herself. “And Vanya should stay here, just in case. Me, Luther and Klaus can go out and spread out, if you tell us where to find some stuff.”

Five presses his lips together, eying Vanya and Allison. Vanya has been quiet ever since she woke up – a little dazed, Diego thinks, and he isn’t entirely sure what’s going through her mind at the moment, but she understands where everyone is coming from, understands the situation at hand – both the Apocalypse and her powers. Then Five nods.

“Alright, yeah.” He slumps ever so slightly against the wall, and then he gives off a few addresses of places Diego recognises easily.

Diego and Luther stand. Klaus stares at the floor, one hand clasped over one of his ears, and Diego doesn’t think he heard a thing they’ve been talking about. He waves a hand in front of him and Klaus startles, looking up.

“Get up,” he says, “we’re gonna go find supplies; me, you and Luther.”

Klaus’ lips part and he shares a glance with the air. He nods, though, struggling upright onto his feet, and the three of them head out.

Klaus is clumsy. He trips over debris and rubble as if he doesn’t see it there, he never looks where he’s going and jumps out of the way of thin air. He can tell Luther finds it weird though he keeps his mouth closed, simply giving Klaus odd glances that go by unnoticed.

Eventually, though, Klaus jumps so far that he falls over debris, landing on his hands and knees and hissing in frustration. Diego sighs, turning on him and giving him a look.

“What’s up with you?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed, and Klaus looks up sheepishly.

“Oh, you know,” he says with a loopy grin, eyes bouncing around. “Ghosts.”

It doesn’t really click in his head. “There are some here?” He asks. Klaus giggles.

“There are a few. Let’s keep going,” he dismisses, continuing on down the street. Luther gives Diego an odd look and Diego just shrugs.

Klaus has always been quiet about the ghosts. Diego isn’t sure what they’re like at all, but he had seen Ben (and that thought still makes his stomach twist) and Ben had looked and sounded normal. He just assumed that was the majority of them. Klaus made them out to be annoying; talking over one another like children scrambling for Klaus’ attention. He assumed there might be a few that hadn’t passed on to somewhere else, as Klaus had occasionally put it, that might be bickering for his attention.

But Diego can’t really imagine it, and even if he could there isn’t much – anything – he can do. So he keeps going down the street, tells Klaus a still-standing building Five had said so that he can go and find some supplies.

###

Diego will hate to say that he hadn’t paid enough attention to him. It simply isn’t obvious – not to him, not to anyone else. Klaus keeps his eyes down and gets supplies; he drops them into the growing pile back at camp and sits down, leaning against a wall. He’s quiet and falls easily into the background.

But everyone is focused on keeping the fire going, on heating food, on looking out for the Commission and discussing their situation with Five and discussing Vanya. Klaus simply fades into the background. Whenever Diego glances at him, his hands are over his ears and his eyes are screwed shut.

Diego considers reaching out to him, then, but Five stiffens and so does everyone else (sans Klaus) and Diego is focused on the situation at hand and the gravity of it all.

###

Admittedly, no one knows what to do. No one knows what Klaus is doing let alone how to confront it, but nothing seems wrong. He’s jumpy – but he always is. He’s quiet – everyone is on edge and, if anything, they need the quietness. He seems to be dealing with it by himself, and it’s not the biggest problem they have. So they get on with it with glances and frowns.

Diego crouches in front of him and reaches out, taking his hands and pulling them away from his ears. He jumps, eyes snapping onto Diego.

“You alright, bro?” He asks. Klaus gives a painfully fake smile and nods his head ever so slightly.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, his voice little more than a whisper. Diego pauses, frowns, then glances at the others.

“You should eat,” he says. He doesn’t think he’s eaten at all since they ‘landed’ in this timeline. Klaus just shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he repeats, leaning back away from him. He looks stressed. Diego doesn’t know what to do.

“The ghosts?” He asks, a little uncertain. Klaus smiles sadly at that.

“They’re loud,” he says. And what is Diego supposed to do? Make everyone yell above something they can’t hear? Threaten the air to be quiet and leave Klaus alone? Ask if Ben can do anything?

He feels helpless, especially knowing that it is obvious stressing him out so. Klaus is pale and Diego doesn’t think he actually slept at all last night; his eyes ringed with dark circles. He twitches every so often as if flinching at a loud noise and his eyes bounce around the place, looking at things that go by unseen by everyone else.

But Ben must be there, must be able to help more than Diego can. Diego squeezes his shoulder, a small apology for not being able to do anything, but he remembers how Klaus used to always wear headphones, always blared music.

But he’s dealing with it, and he’s still able to go out and help them, so Diego just thinks about being a little nicer and more accommodating with him, maybe they can talk about it tomorrow and they can try to understand it a little better.

###

They don’t have the chance to do that.

He wakes up that night to sobbing. He sits up, rubbing his eyes and looking around, only to see Luther, on watch at the time, standing by the fire and looking concerned and conflicted. Diego follows his gaze and his eyes find Klaus, curled against the wall, hands over his ears and sobbing quietly.

“Is he asleep?” He asks, looking as concerned.

“I don’t know,” murmurs Luther. Diego knows Klaus doesn’t sleep well, though – has heard him in his sleep before, and so it isn’t entirely surprising. It’s more so the begging that shocks them both. His voice cracks on apologies, on quiet pleads for forgiveness.

And then he lifts his head and drops it onto the ground carelessly. Both Diego and Luther grimace at that and Diego shifts onto his knees, watching a little more closely. Klaus’ chest bounces. He does it again, harsh, and then he sobs again, body shaking, and by the time it takes Diego to reach his side, he’s hit his head off the floor once more.

“ _Klaus_ ,” he says, urgent, sliding to his knees beside him and reaching his hand out to catch his head before he can hit it on the floor any more. His fingers run through his hair and, luckily, he finds no cut or any blood from where he had been hitting his head. His other hand moves to his cheek, wet with tears, and he taps his cheek lightly. Klaus doesn’t seem to really acknowledge him.

“Klaus, open your eyes,” he urges, thumb running along his cheek. Klaus just twitches with another cry, his face all screwed up and distressed. “Come on, Klaus,” he insists, leaning a little closer to him. It seems that gets through to him, at the very least, and his eyes flutter open. His eyes land on Diego for perhaps a second before shifting to something over his shoulder.

Diego swears he sees the reflection of people in his eyes, but when he turns to look over his shoulder, no one is there. Luther isn’t close enough to be there.

Klaus moans as if Diego’s just flushed his drugs in front of him (though he feels bad making that correlation, because Klaus is sober and working hard to stay that way, evidently) and his eyes close.

“ _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…”_

His head hits Diego’s hand.

Diego doesn’t know what to do.

###

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t – we don’t know,” says Diego. It’s early in the morning. Klaus’ head is in his lap, but he’s since given up on trying to hit it off the floor, instead focusing on grinding his hands into his ears and muttering incoherently.

Five eyes Klaus, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together.

“He was crying earlier, trying to hit his head on the floor. Didn’t respond to me,” says Diego, looking down at his brother with a frown. “I don’t know why.”

“Is he awake?” Vanya asks, shuffling a little closer to look over at Klaus. Diego nods. Klaus’ forehead presses against his leg, his teeth grind together, and he doesn’t open his eyes again. He seems intent on trying to hide his face, be it in Diego’s lap, the floor, or against a wall. He keeps his back to the open space, to all of them.

Allison waves a hand to get their attention. She takes a piece of slate off the floor and drags it across the wall, forming shaky letters that group together to make the words; _withdrawals/hallucination/nightmare?_

Diego furrows his eyebrows, looking down at Klaus. “I don’t think he’s slept at all,” he states. “And he’s not ill, or really going through withdrawals. I don’t know.”

No one knows and Klaus isn’t listening to tell them. The idea of ghosts pass through his mind but, a little hesitantly, he dismisses the thought. Klaus had been dealing with them only hours ago; he couldn’t go from a little irritated and tense to having a complete breakdown in a handful of hours, could he?

At least he stops hitting his head for a while.

###

Any attempts to talk to Klaus fail. He doesn’t respond to him, doesn’t respond to Allison, or Vanya, or Luther. Doesn’t even respond to the time Five has a nightmare that blends into reality as he wakes and he fires the gun into the air.

They can be right in his face and Klaus’ eyes never focus on them.

Diego swears by it, he still sees silhouettes in his eyes that aren’t really there.

He begins to wonder if there’s more to the ghosts than Klaus ever told them about.

There’s nothing any of them can do to get through to Klaus let alone help him.

Luther tries to get him to eat, once, but he just chokes and spits it out without even really realising it. Vanya coaxes him to drink a few times, stroking her fingers through his hair and massaging his jaw.

Diego is never really sure what the others think is happening. Maybe Five assumes it’s the stress of the Apocalypse – he thinks Vanya does, while he thinks Allison and Luther might be inclined to think it’s due to some withdrawals.

Either way, Five spares glances at Klaus and spends the rest of the day writing equations on the walls.

It’s painful to feel so helpless and, though he wouldn’t admit it, a little infuriating. All of them can sit and cradle Klaus’ head, play with his hair, shake him and tap his face and try and talk to him, but it’s useless. Klaus’ eyes just jump to different places and he shakes his head and begs them – no, someone else – to stop, to forgive him.

###

Klaus has been quiet.

Five mutters about equations and taking too damn long.

“Just take your time, Five. Rushing won’t help anything,” says Luther. Five glares at him.

“We don’t have time,” he says, eyes flicking pointedly to Klaus. One of the few times that Klaus has turned to look at them and Diego hates the look on his face. Wide-eyed, he watches something move in the air, his chest rising and falling in quickening breaths, pants.

“He’ll stop,” says Luther, like he has been for the past few hours. “After a while, he… he just needs to rest.”

“We both know that’s not true,” Five snaps. “We don’t even know what’s wrong with him.”

Luther presses his lips together, looking down at the rubble between his feet.

_“Oh, no… no, no, no, please don’t, please-“_

They turn to Klaus quickly as he starts to speak in hushed, rushed words. His breathing picks up audibly, rasping and keening in his throat, his wide-eyes staring nearly at the floor.

“Klaus?”

A sob falls past his lips and his face screws up in pain, his eyes bouncing between air and the floor. “I’m _sorry_ ,” he says, then flinches, “I’m so sorry, please, move, I can’t – I can’t-“ his hands move up to cover his eyes and they’re already moving closer, his breathing ragged, panicked as he presses himself against the wall.

Luther notices it. He doesn’t cover his eyes like he often does, but instead he digs his nails into his skin and starts to scratch. Luther hurries forwards, roughly prying Klaus’ hands from his face enough to make Diego yell in shock.

Klaus whines, turning his face, marred with thin red scratches, away quickly. He tries to no avail to pull his hands free from Luther’s grip, gasping and begging until his eyes roll back and he goes limp on the floor.

“Let go of him,” Diego growls, shoving Luther’s shoulder. Luther does so, giving him a glare.

“I had to,” he states, letting Klaus’ hands fall from his grip.

Diego doesn’t say anything. He just looks down at Klaus, chest slowing to a more calm pace, and he scrubs his hands down his face. “Christ,” he mutters, then throws a look up at the darkening sky over his head.

###

“We have to do something.”

“Like what? What are we supposed to do? He might as well be in some – some psychotic break from reality, or something,” Diego says. “What can we do? Short of tying him down and blindfolding him, but that isn’t going to stop him.”

“Can you stop arguing?” Vanya snaps. “Arguing isn’t helping anything.” She’s standing by the fire, arms folded across her chest.

“ _Nothing_ is helping,” Diego snaps at her, but the glare she sends his way makes him look away immediately.

“We need to keep him safe,” says Five, “at least until I can send us into the past again, or until we can get out of here.”

“But how long will that be?” Diego asks, head cocked to the side.

Rubble crunches. There’s a thud. Diego turns to look as Klaus’ head thumps against the floor and he deflates. He takes a step forwards but Vanya beats him, getting there and sliding her hands beneath his head and then moving to cradle his head in her lap.

Allison joins with a sad expression on her face and a water bottle in her hands. Klaus’ eyes are open, lips parted to let out quiet sounds. Vanya’s fingers stroke his jaw lightly and that’s really the only thing that he reacts to now; stilling ever so slightly, enough for Allison to get him to drink a little water. He flinches and Allison takes the water away, looking pained as his expression goes from some kind of detached peace to fear.

Vanya strokes her fingers through his hair.

Klaus’ hands cover his ears and he moans, distraught, and Diego stares into the fire.

###

Diego takes the first night watch. Part of it is so that he can watch Klaus and that intention isn’t hidden.

Though the Commission hasn’t shown their face while they’ve been here, they aren’t entirely in the clear yet and Five is still paranoid about them showing up at any point, so Diego takes a seat in the crumbling doorway of the Academy, sitting back against it and looking out at the pitch-black streets.

He doesn’t like how quiet it is.

The fire crackles behind him and his siblings breath quietly in their sleep. Klaus, for once, is silent. Diego just hopes that he’s asleep and managing to catch some rest.

It went wrong so fast that Diego feels as if he’s got whiplash. He had went from covering his ears to being completely unreachable, in some kind of other world. And he isn’t entirely sure why.

He said the ghosts were loud, but Klaus had always said that and always drowned it out with music. He can’t get music here, but surely they couldn’t be loud enough to send him into a full breakdown.

He can tell Five is getting more frustrated with himself as well at being unable to immediately recover and send them all back to a safer time – assuming that it is aspects of the Apocalypse causing this for Klaus.

They’ve not yet managed to discuss Vanya’s powers because of this, either, getting too distracted with the sudden decline of Klaus’ mental state. They’re all tip-toeing around everything, really; Klaus, Vanya, Vanya causing the apocalypse, the full possibility of the Commission coming down on them. Not that they are known for their tact and good communication.

Diego makes it a point to sit down in the morning and discuss everything; at the very least to sit down and make a plan of action.

Some rocks crumble somewhere around him; loose rubble unsettled from bugs or wind.

Then there’s a gunshot.

Diego jumps out of his skin as the sound shatters the silence, echoing through the distance. Immediately, he scrambles onto his feet, expecting to see Five waking from a nightmare or in the middle of a flashback once more.

Sure enough, Five is on his feet. The gun isn’t in his hands. Everyone else is in various states of sudden awareness, torn from their sleep and looking around rapidly.

“Five?” Diego asks, hurrying over. Five is wide-eyed, staring at the floor. At a body on the floor.

“Oh my – oh my _god_ ,” Vanya gasps, stumbling into Allison who can only make a strangled, quiet noise from the back of her throat.

Diego stops in his tracks, heart leaping into his throat.

“K- _Klaus_?”

One of Klaus’ hands is still curled around the gun loosely. He’s crumpled on the floor like a carelessly discarded ragdoll, hips twisted awkwardly, one arm trapped beneath him. Blood pools beneath his head, spreading out in a puddle beneath him and burning bright in the firelight.

Luther is dumbstruck; jaw dropped, eyes stuck on Klaus, unable to move. Five drops to his knees, silent as ever, and then he reaches out to place his hands on his cheeks, thumbs rubbing along his skin a little forcefully as if he’s trying to force him awake.

“Oh my god,” Vanya repeats, hands covering her mouth. She screws her eyes shut and looks away, breaths coming quicker and quicker until Allison blinks and takes several steps back with her, clinging slightly to her.

Diego stumbles forwards in a bit of a daze, then drops onto his knees and reaches out, hands resting on Klaus’ chest.

“K-Klaus? _Klaus_ – w-w-“ he can’t get the word out and he stops trying to, moving to cup Klaus’ neck and lift his head ever so slightly. His breath leaves in sharp pants, his hands shake, and Klaus doesn’t move.

He pulls Klaus onto his lap and Five follows quickly, hands clinging onto Klaus and a noise escapes his lips that Diego would never associate with Five; something deep in his throat, sharp and panicked. When Diego glances up, his eyes are wide and watery, panicked, tears falling rapidly down his face, and he keeps looking at Klaus as if he’s able to bring him back just by grabbing his arm.

“Five-Five, you n-need to s-send us back, Five, you – you need to fix this, _Five_ -“

“I can’t,” Five whispers, eyes watching blood drip down from Klaus’ head hanging limp over Diego’s arm. Diego’s quick to support it like one might with a baby, as if suddenly worried it hurts or that he’s uncomfortable – or maybe just in fear that the utter limpness in his body makes him even more dead.

“I can’t,” Five repeats, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

Pressure builds in his chest. Vanya sobs behind him, breaths ragged and panicked, and Luther sits down a few feet away.

Diego can’t read his face, but he looks how he did when he was forced out of the infirmary after carrying Ben’s body inside.

Diego’s hand streaks blood across Klaus’ cheek and he can’t stop from rocking slightly, grip tightening on Klaus and holding him close.

He wants to tell him to wake up but the words get lost somewhere between his tongue and his teeth.

Diego’s hand goes to the back of his head, soaked, lifting it ever so gently to cradle it against his chest.

It’s like Ben. It’s like Eudora. Only Klaus did this to himself, surrounded by his siblings that should have been there for him. Diego was awake – he should have been watching him.

A sob tumbles past his lips and he presses his forehead against Klaus’.

His eyes are open.

Diego swears he can see a crowd of silhouettes reflected in them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just an extra part for the siblings' reactions, but there's a possibility that this will be added to a series and expanded on, so if that interests you then keep an eye out for that!  
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a oneshot, but I'm very much considering expanding this is a longer fic if anyone would be interested in that.
> 
> Please feel free to let me know what you thought in the comments! I appreciate all feedback!


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